Page 23 of Altius (The Scent of Victory #2)

Fifteen

Joaquin

“ H ow did you find this place?” Morgan asked, cheeks flushed and smiling softly, all but floating back to the truck, more relaxed than I’d ever seen her.

“Been coming here for years. I used to carpool with theatre friends during hell week, but now it’s just me.”

As I opened the passenger door for her, I bent down, sucking in a lungful of her heady orchid scent, laced with that fascinating rusty undertone. I liked my things to be less than pristine. Who knew it extended to my desired partner’s scent, too?

“But it could be our thing, doc. You. Me. Chaos and sweat.”

Morgan paused, feet firmly on the ground once more. “You’re being rather forward tonight.”

“Getting tired of waiting.” I decided not to push my luck and headed to the driver’s side, where I started the engine, keeping the chill at bay while we buckled in. “And I’m not about to let Owen ruin everything before I get a chance to shoot my shot, you know?”

“No,” she said flatly, “I don’t. And he didn’t ruin everything. It was a misunderstanding on my part.”

I laughed, shifting the truck into reverse. “Oh, doc. Don’t make excuses for him. Owen’s got assholes for ears most of the time. Trust me, I know. We’ve lived together since our first year of college.”

After easing onto the street, I drove toward the restaurant Alijah had picked for dinner, a swanky gastropub near the children’s hospital, just a little off his usual route home.

“All he had to do was use that big brain of his. Ask you a clarifying question—just one—and he would have understood why you approached him.”

“I should have followed protocol and waited for the response to come through my designation counselor.”

“Morgan.” My hand settled on her thigh. She tensed at the contact, breath hitching, tongue brushing over her lower lip as she stared at the spider lily tattoo covering her leg. “You know what our answer is. Or you wouldn’t have asked.”

Her eyes skewed in my direction. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. You know that Owen pissed everyone off today, right?” My thumb trailed along the smooth fibers of her dress pants.

“Cal wants everything about your heat to be perfect, and Wyatt will probably tear the arms off anyone who gets between the two of you, including his brother. As for my darling babe…”

Squeezing her leg, I couldn’t help but tease. “He wants to touch you. And feed you.”

“I don’t need—”

“Yes, you do. If your behavior after your seizure is any indication, you’re going to be a bear to deal with during your heat. We’ll probably have to sedate you to get a smoothie down the hatch.”

Morgan glared at me over the rims of her glasses. “It’s different during heats.”

“Nah, you just think it is because of haze goggles.”

“Whatever you say.” Shifting closer to the door, taking the tempting fullness of her thighs with her, Morgan was content to ignore me.

But I wasn’t about to let her.

“You know the deal with Clarice Redmond, right?”

She nodded. “Most of it, but not everything.”

Good, that would make this easier. I had no desire to recount all the batshit notions of Owen and Wyatt’s mother, who seemed determined to turn every negative stereotype about female alphas into reality.

“How much do you know?” I asked.

Morgan shifted in her seat. “Wyatt told me that she always has a new boyfriend, and they never last long. She just wants them for sex and money. Oh, and I know that she kept Owen and Wyatt a secret from their fathers.”

“Yup. She had a years-long affair with a mated alpha. That was Owen’s dad.

And Wyatt’s was an omega ‘friend’ she helped through his heat.

Didn’t tell either of them when she got pregnant.

But when things got tight financially, she sued them both for child support and turned their lives into legal hell.

Both ultimately surrendered their parental rights, because she made it impossible to co-parent with their packs. Who knows what happened to the money.”

“I didn’t know about that.” Morgan’s expression turned sour. “Wyatt always talked about how demanding she was, always moving the goalposts for acceptable behavior. That he was too clumsy, too short, not alpha enough.”

“Nothing was ever good enough for Clarice,” I said with a grim chuckle.

“Not their tidy rooms, Owen’s perfect grade point average, or full marks on his standardized college admittance tests.

None of their respective awards, or anything they’ve accomplished professionally.

” I paused, not sure if it was my place to divulge this next bit of disgraceful parenting.

“Did you know she told Wyatt that his Olympic medals were disappointing?”

Morgan looked at me in shock. “What? He won a team bronze and an individual silver on the horizontal bar! How could she say something like that?”

“Because she’s a bitch.”

“But Wyatt was amazing at his peak, a true world-class athlete.”

“Doesn’t matter. She wanted gold.” Flicking on the blinker, I turned onto a side street.

“So, understandably, Owen doesn’t have a good frame of reference for healthy pack behavior.

He’s trying to lead by providing what he wanted most as a kid—financial stability and a permanent address.

Which Alijah didn’t have either. And since neither of them knows any better, they don’t understand that our pack is still a bit… ”

“Disjointed?”

“Yeah, that’s a good way to put it. But my Papa was an amazing alpha. He led by example, embracing and caring for all my other parents equally, even though he was only mated to my biological mother.”

“How many parents did you have?” she asked with utmost care.

“Five. Two brothers—Papa and my uncle—and their beta best friend from childhood, our Duddy. That was my sister Pilar’s fault. Couldn’t say dad, for some strange reason.”

Morgan gave me a knowing look. “Which had absolutely nothing to do with you?”

“Of course not. I was an absolute angel growing up. I never bribed her with stuffed animals. Not once.” The children’s hospital rolled past, already decked out for the holidays.

“Duddy met a pair of best friends while working at the college library. Both girls thought he was the hottest nerd they’d ever seen.

His alpha best friends? They only found them half as attractive.

My mama, Maricela, fell for Papa straight away.

Louise only had eyes for my uncle. So, each girl got one brother, but they both shared Duddy. ”

Her thumb snagged the junction of the seatbelt. “Is it an imposition if…”

“Drunk driver. On their way to my baby sister Carmen’s dance recital. Killed them instantly. I was fourteen.”

“God,” she exhaled, fighting back a wave of emotions.

I’d touched a nerve. It happened when I talked about my fathers sometimes, but I didn’t expect Morgan to react so strongly. Or did her usual sangfroid not extend to family matters?

“The more I learn about your families… It almost makes me feel guilty for having grown up like I did. Supported, loved. Always encouraged. Even after…” Tangible sadness overwhelmed her. “Even when I didn’t deserve it.”

Pulling into an empty spot down the block from our destination, I turned to Morgan, cradling her face in my hand.

“Just because we deserved better doesn’t mean you deserved less.

” I stroked her cheekbone. “And you having a great family is an incredible bonus in my book. It means more people to love Alijah. He needs that—a lot. My moms and my sisters try, but there’s…

Such a void in him. He tries to hide it, Morgan, but it’s there. I can feel it.”

Our bond pulsed with tender curiosity. I’d tried to shield the emotional fallout from this conversation, but he’d still noticed.

“So,” she said with a reassuring amount of sarcasm, “you’re only into me for my family?”

“Doc, I’ve been into you since the first judgmental glance you shot me across the lobby.” Angling my head, I leaned closer, thumb trailing along her bottom lip, and murmured, “Since you first pouted these at me.”

“Hm. And here I thought you were a flirt.” Morgan unbuckled her seatbelt and reached for the door handle. “Turns out you’re just easy.”

***

Sitting next to my mate in the booth while waiting for our food was like getting hit with a mist of freshly squeezed orange juice every time he wriggled with delight. So bright and fizzy—and gloating that Morgan hadn’t let me kiss her first.

“You know Owen doesn’t pick up on social cues, right?” Alijah asked, abruptly bursting his own bubbles.

She didn’t respond to the fluctuation in his scent, just answered the question calmly, as if speaking through a pane of glass.

“Cal warned me. Something about having a big brain, a bigger alpha, and being allergic to small talk.”

“Damn straight,” I said, leaning across the table, unleashing a bit of my peppery scent as I reached for the drink menu. “I know you don’t do alcohol, doc, but you’re having a fun night out with a pair of happily mated hotties. Surely, there’s a virgin option that’ll do the trick.”

Alijah and Morgan exchanged amused glances, each indulging in a few quiet laughs that increased in volume and frequency when I failed to join in.

“I don’t know if something virgin goes with the everything pizza,” Alijah said between hoots of laughter.

“Even if it did,” Morgan teased, plucking the drink menu from my fingers and setting it on the table, “it’s too late. Chantal already put in my order.”

“Oh, I see,” I drawled, leaning back to wrap an arm around Alijah’s shoulders. “Is this payback?”

“No,” Alijah said, still giggling, “just—just…”

“Here’s to our dirty minds,” Morgan said, raising her water.

I rested the neck of my beer against her glass. “May we put them to good use—together.”

“Cheers!” Alijah clinked his whiskey sour against our drinks and happily gulped down a few mouthfuls, trying to hide his flushed cheeks.

“Seriously though,” I said, pointing to a line on the drink menu. “I bet you’d like the jalapeno margarita or the chili peach martini.”